


A Mishap Series

by ClockWorkSymmetry



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Collections - Freeform, F/M, First Date, Poetry, Random Drabbles, bits and bobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWorkSymmetry/pseuds/ClockWorkSymmetry
Summary: Just random bits and bobs about Kanji and Naoto, whenever I feel the urge to add something.Inspired by my friend, C. Thank you! :3





	1. Chapter 1

He was sweating again. Why was he always sweating? The answer was obvious, in this case at least, because Naoto stood next to him, examining the ingredients of ice flavouring, while the man who tended the stall they were at grew more and more irritable. “Naoto?” “Yes, Kanji-kun?”

He shivered. That didn’t make sense, he was sweating.

“Have you decided what flavour you want?” 

“Which will you get?”

Oh crap. He was supposed to decide that too, wasn’t he? “Uh, I’ll just get a topsicle.”

“Oh. But doesn’t that defeat the purpose of coming to a vendor who sells shaved ice?”

Kanji looked at the ice vendor for sympathy, and found none. He shiftily poked the watermelon flavour. “Um, watermelon.” “Oh.”

She was quiet.

“Don’t you like watermelon?”

“I do. I’ll get the same.”

Thanking the heavens for small mercies, Kanji pulled out some Yen, and ushered Naoto away before she could complain about payment, leaving the fuming shop-keeper be.

 

The two sat down on the steps, by the shrine, Kanji absently wishing for spice to put on the ice as he ate, Naoto simply admiring the bright pink of the flavoured ice before she slowly set it to the side. “Kanji-kun?”

There he went shivering again. “Yeah?”

“Oh, are you cold?”

“N-No, I’m fine!”

“You’re stuttering. Is the ice too much?”

“I-I’m tellin’ ya, I’m fine!”

Naoto was quiet for a moment, looking back at her ice, then sighed. “I’m making this awkward, aren’t I?” 

“I…no? Uh, I think we’re both just awkward to begin with?”

Naoto laughed quietly, looking up at the sky. “That’s rather astute of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Naoto smiled slightly, turning to look at him, gently pulling her cap down. “Why did you ask me out today, Kanji-kun?”

“I…um…” His cheeks matched his melting shaved ice- pink and slightly damp. Was he sweating?

“Are you sweating?”

“NO- I mean yes- Wait- I mean-“

Naoto leaned forward, pulling her handkerchief from her pocket, gently wiping his cheek. “Oh, it was just some ice. My mistake.”

No, he was sweating.

Kanji exhaled, looking down. “I…I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now. And…and I’m rather nervous.”

“Why’s that?”

He cast her an incredulous look. She blinked innocently.

“You know, for a Detective Prince, you sure are dense!”

“Pardon?”

“I meant for this to be a date!”

Naoto almost froze, and Kanji could visibly see the clogs whirring in her brain as she stared at him, her jaw dropped in a little ‘o’. He looked away, flushing further. 

Naoto knew she had never been particularly good at affairs of the heart, but this- this- this was different, wasn’t it? She was with a friend, who she cared for.

One whom she didn’t find herself…adverse to. Well, so to speak, she wasn’t aware of any romantic inclination she may have towards Kanji, who sat there, staring forward, glaring at Aiya’s across the street.

“I hadn’t realized.”

“I get that now.”

“I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He got up. Was he going to leave? Why?

“Kanji-kun?”

He shivered. She noticed. This time, she didn’t comment.

“Stay a little longer?”

He sighed, and, blushing, sat back down again.


	2. A Poem, for Them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N'awwwwwwwwwww
> 
> Thank you C!

Words, short, quick  
Abrupt  
Stiffened pants and stiffened hair  
Unstiffened chest, tucked away  
Hidden

Words long, harsh  
Sad  
Stiffened pants and slick hair  
Quiet chest, tucked away  
Hidden

What’s to say, meeting one, not the other?  
Oh, they’re harsh  
They’re absent  
They’re cold  
Not quite there, not quite welcome  
Not quite right  
Not quite.

Why?

But things change, don’t they?  
One would hope so, yet still-  
There they are,  
Words long and quick  
No longer abrupt, not quite as sad  
Stiff pants still, hair ignored,  
Chests hidden  
But not to the other.

No longer.


	3. Judgment in the Precinct.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For C, who wanted Kanji protecting Naoto, but I wasn't able to deliver quite properly, because you know me trying to stick to what would be canon. **hides face**

“Shirogane.”

“Dojima-san?”

Naoto stared up at Detective Dojima, who had only recently understood that Naoto was, in actuality, female, and was still coming to terms with it. Naoto could only hope that her Senpais guardian would be kind about this, helpful, thoughtful, though she knew she shouldn’t expect much. Detective Dojima was one man. The rest of the precinct was another matter.

“I saw Fumihiko and Akita at your locker today. Are you-“ 

“I’m fine.”

Abrupt. Almost rude. Naoto rarely responded in such a manner. Naoto had expected the men to be derogatory, yes, but she had almost assumed the women to be supportive. They were in the same boat…weren’t they?

-  
“Ugh. What, are you ashamed of who you are? Don’t you think you’re setting a bad example?” “You should be ashamed, considering what you did. Dressing up as a man won’t serve to make future women gain their place any faster.” “You’re lucky, you’re just a child, if you grow up in this situation, people will accept you faster- think of the rest of us would you?” “Leave her be, Sakurako-chan. She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.” “Hmph. Detective Prince indeed. Think about consequences for once, instead of the answer.”

“I just….I just wanted to do what I was supposed to do.”

“What? Pretending to be a man? Pretending that playing dress up would be enough?” “Sakurako...” “No, Akane. She wants to be an adult, let her deal with the consequences.” “What?”

“I…I need to go.”

“No. You need to do your part. You’re a big boy, aren’t you ‘Naoto-kun’? You want to play grown-ups? You want to be a boy, hm?”

“..please…”

“Sakurako, leave her-“ “Shut up, Akane. Naoto-kun, come with me.”

“No-“  
-

Naoto swallowed. She couldn’t breathe.

She fled the station.

-

Kanji stood outside the textile shop, waiting for Naoto to walk past on her way home. He’d normally accompany her back, maybe going in for a cup of tea, and say hello to her grandfather, who would occasionally ask him to do some manual labour, for a decent price. More recently though, Kanji was asked to fix old suits and expensive blankets and linen. Apparently Naoto wasn’t very forth-coming in the stitching department. 

Kanji didn’t mind. She was good at mechanics. He liked that. 

Absently texting on his phone, he looked up, to see Naoto hurrying past, almost as if she was trying to avoid him. He put his phone in his pocket, about to yell over to her, but noticed her eyes were glinting somewhat.

Tears.

He swallowed.

Sakurako. Again.

Instead, Kanji went to the police station.

-

Naoto opened her locker, putting away her gun for the day, and taking off some of her gear. The ladies room was empty, and for that, Naoto was grateful. A note fell free from the grating of the locker door, which she stooped to pick up, and frowned, raising an eyebrow.

‘Don’t worry about Sakurako-senpai anymore, Naoto-kun. Kanji-kun and I spoke to her. I’m sorry.  
Akane-senpai.’

Naoto blinked, her lips hardening into a thin line, putting the note away.

-

“Why did you get involved?”

Kanji blinked as he looked up from stitching up the latest Shadow-originated tear in his shirt, and saw Naoto in the doorway to his room, walking over to him, then sitting down next to him, absently straightening her hat.

He grunted, and continued stitching.

“Kanji-kun.”

He sighed, putting the shirt down, then shifted to look at her. “How could I not?”

“I’m not….I’m not some princess you need to protect, Kanji. You…you shouldn’t-“

She paused, mid-sentence, as Kanji hesitantly pushed hair back from her face, his thumb brushing against her jaw. Her cheeks flushed as she looked away. “…it’s not right for you to get involved at the station. I need to fight my own battles.”

“You should fight your own battles when you pick them. You didn’t pick this one.”

She looked up at him, watching his eyes soften with worry, his cheeks pink.

“Who did you contact?”

“I just spoke to Dojima-san and Fumihiko-san, then we spoke to Akita-san. That’s all.”

“That’s a bit nosy, wouldn’t you say?”

“Naoto…”

His voice was soft, tired. She sighed, looking away. 

“What?”

“I…I don’t like seeing you sad.”

Naoto couldn't help but start to smile.


	4. I Forgot: Anniversary

Naoto didn’t normally do the cute route thing. Every time she and Kanji had an ‘event’ to attend, Kanji tended to go overboard, and Naoto hid in the shadows and hoped no-one associated her detective-self with the flustered mess she became around her doting husband.

Husband.

‘Husband’.

The word still felt fresh and scary on her tongue.

Shadows, her identity issues, the workforce recognizing who she was, all paled in comparison to the idea of sharing everything she was- everything she hated- with someone, and hope, against hope, that they would accept it, and love it.

Yet, Kanji had, all too eagerly, for the small price of expecting the same in return.

Naoto looked at the calendar, her eyes a little wide. He hadn’t said anything this morning, though she noted he had given her a bigger breakfast than usual, miso as she liked it, omelette with green onions, and even some sliced fruit. She hadn’t commented, simply reading the paper, not really paying attention to his slight disappointment.  
Thinking a kiss on the lips goodbye, with a hand on his shoulder, instead of a chaste affair on his cheek made up for it, assuming him just trying something new.

Kanji would never just cook more food for the heck of it.

It was their anniversary. 

And she had forgotten.

 

“Damn it.”

“Tatsumi?”

“Nothing. Sorry.”

Naoto pushed more papers this way and that on her desk, scowling at herself as Dojima walked away, a new gopher trailing after him, clutching cheap coffee, smelling of cigarettes. A sigh then- the typical bustle of the office.

Phones blared through the precinct, indistinct chatter, some laughter, and the blare of contractors in the backroom, expanding the lower compound. Naoto got to her feet, hands in her pockets for a moment, then pulled on her jacket, and adjusted her hat- a new one Kanji had made for her recently.

Another thing she hadn’t appreciated enough. 

She groaned, rubbing her forehead, then checked her watch. Did she have enough time to do something silly, like hope Aiya’s for supper was enough for an apology? …would she even get home in time? …and he’d probably be making something nice for supper too.

Naoto was a terrible wife.

 

Kanji stared anxiously at the clock, partly wandering if Naoto had been delayed again. Another new case? He had made California rolls especially for her. Staring blankly at the sushi on the table, he wilted slightly, hoping she was okay. 

No, she was fine. Naoto was a strong, smart woman, and that was why he married her. She wouldn’t be out, fretting, because…because she probably forgot. Again.  
Kanji groaned, grabbing his jacket, as he noted it was starting to rain.

 

Naoto banged on the glass of the florist again. “I said tulips!” “We’re sold out!” “You’ve got them right there!” “Go away!” “I’m a detective!” “I don’t care!” Naoto sighed, then looked dejectedly at the small bunch of daylilies in her hand, feeling sorry for herself. She had to do better, she’d promised last year, she wouldn’t forget again. …and then she did. She was terrible. What was she supposed to do, get more flowers, get supper, get a pet-

A pet!

Yes!

….no, he’d end up taking care of it. 

She groaned, rubbing her forehead, almost mashing the yellow flowers in her face.

“Naoto?”

Naoto looked up, seeing her husband, and swallowed, cheeks flushing.

His cheeks were pink too, probably from running. He had changed so much since high school. Glasses, his hair was black now, though he kept the style and the piercings. The same frames from days in the tv, too.

And his jacket, held over the both of them, in the rain. He had forgotten an umbrella.

She smiled weakly, then looked down. “…I…”

“You forgot.”

“Again.”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head, as she offered him the flowers, which he took, before hesitantly pulling one out of the bunch, threading it behind her ear.

“Happy anniversary, Naoto.”


	5. A Recital

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Kanji exhaled quietly, crouching down to look at the wide-eyed little girl, who clutched at her skirt, swallowing anxiously. The stage, set to the side, was waiting for her to go on for the short recital, where she was to deliver her verse.

“Hikari…dad and I are so proud of you, you know that?”

Naoto looked down at her daughter, next to Kanji, gently straightening her collar, even as Kanji fixed her hair, wiping her eyes as she sniffled, stage-fright getting the better of her. 

“I-I know, but…but what if I forget my lines? What if Satou-sensei laughs at me?”

“Why would Satou-sensei laugh at you?”

“Because he said my poem is…um…f-fic-fictitious?”

“That’s not a bad thing. It’s a comment.”

“It’s not a compliment!”

The young girl stomped a foot, grey eyes squeezed shut in distress, her cheeks puffed, dark blue hair shaken violently in twin pig-tails. “It’s not good enough! I’m not good enough-“

“Hika-chan.”

Hikari stopped, looking at her dad, who had been otherwise silent, fussing over her. His hands pressed over her cheeks gently, but firmly, forcing her to keep steady eye-contact. Tears welled in her eyes, as snot started running from her nose.

“Hikari. Who decides whether you are good enough?”

The little girl was silent for a long few moments, before looking down. “I-I do.”

“Do you think your poem is good?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are good enough.”

She was quiet, before nodding resolutely, and Kanji smiled, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing her eyes, then letting her blow her nose. “You’re ready.”

She smiled then, hugging her parents, before resolutely marching on stage.

 

Kanji and Naoto sat back in the audience, watching their little girl go on.

“Next, we have Tatsumi Hikari, reciting a poem she wrote herself, about a story her parents told her.”

Hikari made her way on stage, smiling, cheeks flushed, then cleared her throat, hands at her sides.

“A Lost Teddy-bear  
Made his path in the darkness  
Friends showed him the way”

She bowed, while the audience started clapping.

 

Teddie, next to Kanji, started bawling.

Naoto could only laugh at him.


End file.
